The Oracle, Dark Arcane Cycle
by Biotomegami Lyanvis
Summary: If Sasuke never knew Itachi killed the Uchiha clan. If Someone had stepped in and saved him from that harsh truth. If, at all possible, a Kinder world existed for him... a crueler world would be born of it...
1. Mahalo

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the characters from Naruto.

Just as a side note, If you think I own Anyone but whomsoever you don't recognize in this story, or that I am earning any kind of profit from this, I have a very nice psychologist I can recommend to you. He didn't really help me, but then again, nipponphilia _(obsession with all things Japan)_ is not really something curable.

Second side note: feel free to skip this little prologue. The characters involved don't even come in to play until the fifth chapter save for Raiso, and reading this is not absolutely essential to the plot currently. My friend just happened to think that starting the story in what she called _stream-of conciousness_ smut was a _**Bad Idea.**_ Though, if you like foreshadowing, or agree that a story shouldn't start that way, go ahead and read. This chapter was in and of itself, tacked on to the front as an afterthought, it used to be the fifth chapter, so if you want to read it in that order, feel welcome to do so.

* * *

_The Oracle_

_Prologue_

_Mahalo_

"What do you see?" Asked the Goddess of the Oracle.

"Rulers will become unreasonable: they will levy taxes unfairly. Rulers will no longer see it their duty to promote spirituality or to protect their subjects: they will become a danger to the world. People will start migrating, seeking countries where wheat and barley form the staple food source. Avarice and wrath will be common; men will openly display animosity towards each other. Ignorance of Dharma will occur. Lust will be viewed as being socially acceptable. People will have thoughts of murder for no justification, and they will see nothing wrong with that mindset." The words were whispered soft, to no one in particular, as it always was with the oracle's prophecies.

"People will be inclined to follow false sciences. Family murders will also occur. People will see those who are helpless as easy targets and remove everything from them." The goddess nodded, an indication to continue.

"Many other unwanted changes will occur. The right hand will deceive the left and the left the right. Men with false reputation of learning will teach the Truth. The old will betray the senselessness of the young, and the young will betray the dotage of the old. Cowards will have the reputation of bravery and the brave will be enervated cowards. People will come to trust not a single person in the world, not even their immediate family. Even husband and wife will find contempt in each other." Two sets of green eyes in differing hues closed. The first set a brilliant viridian green, unmatched by any jewel in clarity and purity, the second a verdant green the shade of the most dangerous, unruly forest vegetation; a beautiful colour.

"In the Kali Yuga even pre-teenage girls will get pregnant. The primary cause will be the social acceptance of sexual intercourse as being the central requirement of life. It is believed that sin will increase exponentially, whilst virtue will fade and cease to flourish. People will take vows only to break them soon. Alongside death and famine being everywhere, men will have lustful thoughts and so will women. People will without reason destroy trees and gardens, and there will be no respect for animals." The goddess' eyes opened back to look at the oracle in wonder. The things she spoke even now had started to pass.

"People will become addicted to intoxicating drink. Men will find their jobs stressful and will go to retreats to escape their work. Gurus will no longer be respected and their students will attempt to injure them. Their teachings will be insulted and followers of Kama will wrest control of the mind from all humans." The oracle opened her verdant eyes once again and met those of the goddess as she spoke the last words, to give them the cruel finality that matched their meaning.

"As the sin increases exponentially, so will the incidence of divine justice and wrath."

Those words rang in the child's head as she lifted her head to the sky. Her white hair shone brilliantly in the moonlight as she repeated these words to a woman who could have been her same age. Though both looked young, one was a woman inside, the other a child with no understanding of the words she repeated, simply an oracle parrot. The brunette smiled down at the other girl. Somehow, down, though both were the same height. Her smile was sweet, reassuring.

"Don't worry, Momoka-chan." Riku reassured the other girl. "/When flowers will be begot within flowers, and fruits within fruits, then will the Yuga come to an end? And the clouds will pour rain unseasonably when the end of the Yuga approaches./" The words brought the white haired one's fears to an end. She nodded in agreement, not hearing the softly spoken words that came after. "In the 10,000 years era within the Yuga…." Her eyes closed. A man walked to the two of them and unceremoniously lifted Riku into his arms. She waved over her shoulder, and the oracle, in a pitiable state, waved back. A hand stretched out to her, the man's. He took her hand as roughly as he had gathered the other girl and walked away. Though he was abrasive, she could feel the kind heart he kept hidden inside.

"Thank you, Raiso-sama…." A brief nod was all the response she received. She smiled back. She would get food and lodging tonight, and hopefully, also a shower. Riku wrinkled her nose at the younger girl from her perch on the older man's shoulder and Momoka nodded. Wordlessly, they continued to converse, all in gestures and thoughts, all the way to where Raiso decided to take them for the night; the home he shared with a woman more than willing to take them in, and his daughter, a precocious girl heading into her own path of destruction. Momoka never told, they never asked about their future. She did not speak of these things unless asked. And the only one who asked…

Could handle the answers she received.

* * *

Riku: By the way, I am not from anything you would recognise, unless you know of Itairiku Kamikaze, in which case you should know who wrote this story.  
Momoka: Also, the author would like to say that she has heard people say that I am like some female character from the manga Peach girl, and she would like you to know that _that_ manga had no influence on my character, even if we do have the same name. It's just a coincidence that Momoka Adachi does exist in another story. I am not based on her.  
Little Sasuke: -waves energetically- Hey!! Hey!!! Riku-chan, you forgot's me!!!  
Riku: -laughs and carts little Sasuke into her arms- I did no such thing...  
Little Sasuke: Did so... I wasn' ev'n menshund in the stori...  
Riku: that's cause you're not born yet. You'll be in the next chapter.  
Little Sasuke: -whimpers and hugs onto Riku- I don' lik the next chapter... -sniffles and burrows into Riku-  
Raiso: Whatever. Come on, we have to get ready for it, so let's go. -sighs- and someone, for the love of whatever you beleive in, please review... She is so much worse to us when people dont... 


	2. Orochimaru

Once again, need a shrink? I'd be happy to provide one.

* * *

_The Oracle_

_Chapter 1_

_Orochimaru_

There was blood. There was a lot of blood. It was always there, the putrid rank stench of it as something hard and thick slammed into him repeatedly. It was not fun. It was painful. It was painful beyond compare. He had to think, to think of anything besides the man thrusting in his ass recklessly. To not moan, or worse, scream. It was crazy. He, was crazy. Could not think, could not make a sound, and didn't want him to win. No. No. He wouldn't make a sound. The moaning and panting didn't come from him, and that terrible laughter that rang in his ears was only in his imagination. Sharp nails dug into his hips. A dream shouldn't hurt like this. He shouldn't have dreams of the pale man with make-up on his face. This was a dream, It had to be a dream, It was a dream. A harder thrust than normal sent him sprawling off his hands; he was buried face-first in the bed as he kept denying it. Those brutal hands yanked at his hair, so much stronger than the man could possibly be, he was bowed back by the vindictive yank on his black hair. He could feel the liquid spewing into him, the rancid, bitter liquid stinging everywhere it touched. It was worse. It was worse now, than this treatment. This pain, he could fight, he could handle. It was the mind games the snake played when he was sated that always broke him. Flesh met flesh, his back against the other's chest. A hand lowered to his crotch. The younger raven tried to fight, he did. But when those hands wrapped around a cock already weeping for release, he shuddered. He didn't want to hurt himself getting away from the grasp of this psycho, but he didn't want to be in the grasp either. He always wondered why he was erect after so much pain; he decided he must be a masochist. And then, again, like every other time this happened, he decided that he was hard because the other man willed it so. Soft, kind whispers were in his ear now, telling him lies, lies he readily believed, about power and avarice, about revenge, a revenge he hadn't known he had wanted, power he hadn't known he'd sought. Then that tongue wrapped around his throbbing member and all thought ceased. It wasn't long… It was never long. White went everywhere, and the man pulled on his cock so that all the liquid fell on the boy. By now he had his eyes closed, unable to stop the gasps and moans that escaped his mouth.

Sasuke shot upright in his bed, soaked through to the bone with sweat. He grimaced when he shifted to find his boxers filled with a sticky liquid he was fairly sure had come from his orgasm. His eyes were baggy from lack of sleep. He'd tried to avoid the nightmare he'd been reliving for the past month by not sleeping, and it was showing. He hated medicine, or he would have taken Sakura's advice and gone to a doctor. Both his teammates were worried now though, and even Kakashi had expressed concern. They all knew he had nightmares, but they assumed it was of his family's tragic demise, the cause of which was still unknown. He pondered the man's words of revenge. He didn't want his brother dead…. It was so strange, what the mind thought of. He tried to figure it out, but the most he could think was that some part of him resented Itachi for not being able to stop whatever had killed everyone. He would go to the doctor today. It wouldn't do to keep his friends worrying about him. Sasuke stripped himself of his clothes quickly. Passing the mirror in the bathroom, he was startled to see long black hair. A startled face stared out at him, of a woman, likely much older than he. Her head tilted to the side. He couldn't keep his eyes from flicking downwards, as she was as bare as he, but her eyes remained on his. She only chuckled as he looked her over, and he imagined it to be a sweet sound. The words she mouthed were obvious; he didn't have to have the sharingan to understand she was teasing him with a question about her looks. For some reason, it wasn't strange at all to either of them that they should see each other. His eyes looked her over again, this time slowly, and he smirked, making colour rise in her cheeks. He mouthed back a single word.

"Beautiful." The colour rose further and she made a face at him, obviously denying it. He slowly licked his lips, the action suggestive, and watched her nipples harden in the mirror as her blush darkened. He raised a hand to the mirror, fully expecting to touch glass as she raised her hand as well to reach out to his. They both jolted back as they touched something warm and the illusion was broken, he only saw himself.

Sasuke shook his head.

"Maybe I should take Sakura's advice... I'm starting to hallucinate."

* * *

I realise this was pretty short, I didn'te even hit a thousand words, but this was not something that I really wanted to continue too much. the next chapter will be up soon. I also realize that it sucks, and I need a beta. anyone willing, leave me a way to contact you.

Little Sasuke: dere's a butun' down dere... It says reviw... push it... please... so che won' do dis to me no mores... sniffles


	3. Melt The Ice Princess

(No, I only own Raiso and Amaya. This interpretation of them, anyway. This story is all mine.)

* * *

_The oracle_

_Chapter two_

_Melt the Ice Princess_

"I work _with_ you, not _for_ you, Raiso." Itachi snarled. He steeled his dark eyes with irritation. "That means we're partners. /Equals/. You can't order me around like I'm some lower-caste minion." The handsome brunette man on the receiving end of this diatribe barely flicked a glance up at Itachi, enmeshed in a pile of paperwork the equivalent size of an igloo. The White Mountain shifted to the side of the mahogany desk precariously as the grey-eyed man moved it away from the workspace.

"Please, go see to Amaya then." The first word was slightly mocking, and Itachi bristled. Raiso looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. " _Before_ she strangles a cat, Itachi…." He said, subtly emphasizing the beginning of the second sentence. Itachi was about to retort, but upon realizing that this was likely something the girl would do If she was bored and alone for too long, he simply cursed under his breath and followed Raiso's orders, leaving the indigo-walled room.

Six years later, he still had the habit of cursing whenever Raiso gave him an order that he ended up obeying against his will or better judgment, though the room he walked away from was no longer the same shade of indigo, instead being an interesting shade of light green. Going to greet his brother at the gate was one of those times. He wanted to kill Raiso, strangle him, be violent, but he could not. Damn the woman Riku and her curse…

.6 .6 .6 . .6

Eleven years after the Uchiha Clan Massacre, Sasuke still disliked calling Riku a demon, and considered the Massacre a mystery. Whatever had killed his parents was not a thing foremost in his mind at the worst or the best of times, his goals in life to recreate the Uchiha clan and to be as strong as or stronger than the revered brother whom had saved his life from the thing that killed everyone else. He knew his brother stayed with Raiso Marise. He knew Raiso had power and influence in the mist. He knew, too, that the Marise family was as old as the Uchiha's at the very least. What he didn't know was…

"Raiso's _what?!?!_ " Sasuke demanded of his best friend, eternal rival, and village leader, Rokudaime Hokage Naruto Uzumaki. Naruto laughed to see the astonished look on Sasuke's face.

"Raiso… is… the… Mizukage." He responded slowly, chuckling as comprehension dawned.

"N… No he isn't…" Sasuke stammered. "Who in their right mind would make Raiso Mizukage? He's not a bad person, but he's nothing like you…. He couldn't rule a country…. He couldn't care enough to rule a country; it was hard enough for him to care about… One… person…." he trailed off. He never said her name either, and Naruto didn't press the issue, knowing by now, what things Sasuke would not- could not? He was never sure- talk about.

"However incompetent you think he is- Yes, I know that word, Sasuke shut up- at ruling a country, I do not expect you to say it in his presence. Seeing as you know the man best, I'm sending you to work out a peace treaty between our two lands. The land of fire and the land of water must fight no longer. I don't want another war." Sasuke nodded, but was still having trouble trying to comprehend the revelation Naruto had given him.

"I've heard that his daughter can convince him of anything, but she's a tough one to get close to. Although, if anyone could get into her good graces, it would be you, Uchiha Sasuke. You always did have a way with women…" Naruto continued. "Well, I wish you the best of luck. Dismissed." Sasuke nodded and took the mission scroll and passport from Naruto, then disappeared. Outside, the raven pocketed the information and wondered at the age of Raiso's daughter. He'd known her when they were young, and seen her briefly, when he'd been twelve, but he'd never asked. Amaya hadn't seemed the type then who was swayed easily, he'd thought her to be rather bizarre, actually, but the mission was the mission. He closed his eyes, and an image returned to him, clear as day.

Damned if the girl wasn't sexy though….

As a woman, she would be even sexier….

Sasuke lifted a hand to his black hair. The front of it swayed in the wind, and he smiled. Even if the mission were unreserved ignominy, it would not have been time wasted. At the very least, he could see his brother and idol again. With that thought, Sasuke was content, His smile reaching through the depths of his unfathomable black eyes. And if the mission went well… Sasuke's lips curved in his trademark woman-melting smirk. If the mission were a success, he would have Amaya wrapped around his finger, and by extension, Raiso and the land of the mist. The Uchiha symbol was a banner proclaiming his pride emblazoned on his clothes. He'd rejected the offer of ANBU when he'd been informed the members needed anonymity. Those whom he killed would know him, and they would know him well. The last thing you saw when Sasuke killed you was his back, and the emblazoned Uchiha crest.

Don't even think that his hand could spare you.

Uchiha Sasuke offered few people mercy.

He felt eyes on him, and his smirk grew. Whomever it was had better not underestimate him. As he jumped onto the rooftops and made his way out of town, he did think idly to himself,

_Do they know what they are getting into?

* * *

_

Little Sasuke: Why am I melting women? blinkblinkblinkblink  
Raiso: trying not to laugh'Cause you're so damn cute...  
Sasuke: blinkblinkblink... wide blinking cute eyes confusion  
Raiso: come along, Sasu-kun...  
Little Sasuke: 'kay...


	4. Open to interpretation

\/The Oracle\/

\/Chapter Three\/

\/Open to Interpretation\/

"Everybody wants to know why, like I can describe why I love him. Why I chose him over everyone else." She shakes her head, pink hair cascading around her like a waterfall of cotton candy and she fixes her friend with the deepest stare he's seen since the moment Sasuke apologized for nearly almost—( _he never sounded very sincere_ )—killing him. "They act like I can just give it a name and make it so that they'll understand. They want him to try to explain himself, like there's something wrong with it. It's love, though, Naruto; I know it is. The way I feel when he just _looks_ at me is worth risking my life, my honor, my very being, just so that he'll do it again."

Her voice has grown and she almost wishes she could look every one in the shop in the eye as she speaks—she knows they're listening to every word she says, so there's no reason for her to be quiet any longer.

"But I do." A smile breaks through on her face, and she clasps her hands about her, trying to imagine her arms are his. "I love him, and there's nothing anybody can say that will make that different. If we have to, we'll leave. Nobody wants that. They just want him to suffer the consequences as if he's some common, petty criminal and not the love of my life. As if he did something _wrong._ "

"He didn't."

The Kunoichi spun on her seat and stared deeply into his eyes. "I know why _I_ think so. Why do you . . .?"

"Because," says Naruto, shrugging as he takes a gulp of water. "You look happy. And if you're happy, then he must be doing something _right._ "

Kakashi shook his head to clear it. A woman stood in front of him, a dead woman. He decided, quite simply, that this was a dream. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she looked up at him. Though it had been years since he'd last held this woman, she felt natural in his arms.

"You're getting married, Kashi-kun?" she asked, her green eyes focused, but not upset. Kakashi nodded.

"Yeah, Riku, I am. It's not because I don't love you. I still do-" she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm only here to reassure you that I'm okay with it, so that you can move on from me." Her head tilted in her typical cute way. "I don't have a problem with it, and anyone who does can go jump in a ditch. You loved me, but when I was alive, you never told me so. Don't tell it to me now. Tell the woman who wants to spend her whole life with you, and have no regrets about what happens next." She smiled, removing her finger from his lips and wrapping her arm back around his neck. "I love you, Kakashi, but she loves you too. And you love her. I'm happy for you." Nothing in her demeanor suggested otherwise, and Kakashi smiled, pulling his mask down and kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes out of respect for Sakura, and the silver-haired jounin smiled at her for it, replacing the mask. Pulling away from him, she ran a hand through her long brown hair and winked, disappearing with a small bow and flourish. Kakashi shook his head. Some things would never change.

Sakura looked radiant, Kakashi thought as the woman walked towards him, and, not for the first time, he thought, exactly how lucky he was to have those two women to love him. It was also the last time. Later, when Sakura raged over his dead body, lashing out at anything in sight, Kakashi in spirit wondered where in the world his mind had been to not notice the ambush that was all too clear. It was the day Naruto would protect the village with his life in an undeniable way; the day Tsunade gave hers for the village only to be protected by said man; it was the day Naruto Uzumaki was for certain to be the Rokudaime Hokage. Looking back at the woman and the world he left behind, he knew exactly what he had been thinking of. His happiness and the woman he loved. He knew of at least one person who wouldn't condemn him for that.

Sakura worked hard to save him. So hard… Her hands were covered in his blood and it made her shake, shake with fear for him, but she forced herself to remain clinical, professional. Sasuke and Naruto were with her, they helped her hold him down. His teeth were chattering, his lips cold and blue. They hadn't caught the person who'd killed him, but everyone with him was dead as well. Kakashi looked up at Sakura. He hadn't said it enough. Riku'd been warning him. He hadn't said it enough. And he took those trembling hands in his own, and they were so warm, because Kakashi was so cold. So cold, like the ice that froze over Raiso's soul. He almost laughed to be thinking of that man as he lay dying, but he felt another hand on his head. Not Sasuke's hand, not Naruto's either. As though the thought had summoned him, Raiso was there. Kakashi raised those warm hands to his lips and kissed them. Sakura… tears fell down her cheeks unchecked.

"S-s-Sa kur-ra…" He stammered out. She made to hush him, but Raiso firmly shook his head and silenced the girl. Kakashi drew strength from a man he had always hated, from the firm, alleviating pressure of his hand. There was no more pain. "I-I lo-love you…." Sakura sobbed.

"I Love you too, Kakashi…." Afterwards, Sakura was inconsolable. Raiso took her aside and spoke to her for some time, before she threw her arms around him. Kakashi was vaguely amused. So Rai'd had the utmost respect for him.

Yeah, right.

Being dead took a while to get used to.

.6 .6 .6

* * *

Little Sasuke: Kakashi's Dead!!!!!  
Raiso: Why. Why must you do these things to him? why do you let him watch?  
Riku: softly It's his life. You don't think he has a right to know?  
Raiso: Not so young, no. I think he should be allowed to choose when he is old enough to understand and say _no_ , I don't want to know, Or _yes_ , Tell me.  
Riku: Oh, you mean like me?  
Raiso: flinches  
Riku: picks Sasuke up and kisses his forehead Come now, little one. We are going to watch the next scene.  
Raiso: muttering  
Sasuke: 'Kay... Is it bad?  
Riku: I dunno yet.  
Raiso: --;  
Sasuke: Am I in it?  
Riku: I don't know that either, dear. kisses his forehead again  
Sasuke: blushes


	5. Kunzite

Oh, by the way, Yeah, the last chapter, one of my friends told me that the first part of it was on another website. I'm pulling my hair out. Really, I am. One of the sucky things about being a writer with photographic memory is that you're never sure if your writings are actually original, particularly when it comes easily. I rushed a bit with this chapter, sorry it's such Crp. I was planning on updating chapters in twos, but I just felt like writing this out of nowhere. I realize most of my fics tend to be OC based, so most of you probably won't read this far, but I am just... I'm bored and I want others to see what I can do, and get some feed back, to see what they think. Of course, very few people actually review (make that none) so I have no clue how I'm doing. I'm uploading this to Ficwad first. If anyone knows who the authour of what was in the other chapter is, please let me know so I can give them a formal apology? It's sucky, I know, but bear with me. I have a chapter I do like that I will upload eventually. and incase it's not obvious, the firl is very well off, she has room to dance in her bathroom. And yes, that is where he apperars in on her.

**Disclaimer:** Again if you need a shrink, I know a pretty good one.

* * *

_The Oracle_  
_Chapter Four_  
_Kunzite_

The music blared loudly, far too loud for anyone to be audible over the massive wall of sound. Itachi glared at the door. The vapidity of the music was irritating him to no end, and the small fact that the loud music was being played for the very purpose of Irking him only irked him more.

_I'm in the business of misery; let's take it from the top. She's got a body like an hourglass- It's ticking like a clock. It's a matter of time before we all run out; when I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth._

Inside the bathroom, a girl spun and twirled, dancing gracefully as she readied herself for the coming day. Kunzite stones made their way into her ears; the shine of them much more brilliant than could be expected from any stone of this kind, let alone two, but Raiso Marise spared no expense when it came to his daughter. A third Kunzite sparkled at the close of the choker necklace she wore, the purplish stone seeming to glow with a red fire from within. She sang. Though she would never admit it to her Itachi-kun for fear of his ridicule, she did enjoy songs like these. It wasn't just to irritate him that she played them.

_I waited eight long months, she finally set him free. I told him I couldn't lie; he was the only one for me. Two weeks and we had caught on fire… She's got it out for me, but I wear the biggest smile…_

Her eyes blue eyes sparkled in the mirror. She would see her fiancée again today, she thought, and he would be happy to see her as well. She wanted to ask him for something too. Her eyes darkened slightly with repressed anger. That woman. She was so irritating!! Raiso had taken her weapons away for a while, and Hiroko had a beautiful sword that she was just dying to get her hands on. The twelve-year-old girl buttoned a blouse over her developing chest. If there was anything she wanted from her, it would have been that figure. The woman was perfect.

_Whoa, I never meant to brag, but I got him where I want him now. Whoa, it was never my intention to brag, to steal it all away from you now. But god does it feel so good, Cause I got him where I want him now. And if you could then you know you would. Cause god it just feels so, it just feels so good…_

A comb ran swiftly through the long dark hair, parting it into two sections. She tied each with ribbon, then began separated the ponytails into smaller segments, successively braiding twenty-eight different braids on each side of her head as she sang. The first half was done relatively quickly; it only took her one verses. She sat on her bed to do this; she wanted to look perfect for the man who would be her husband.

_Second chances they don't never matter, people never change. Once a whore you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change. And about forgiveness, we're both supposed to have exchanged. I'm sorry honey, but I'm passing up, now look this way. Well there are a million other girls who do it just like you. Looking as innocent as possible to get to who, they want and what they like it's easy if you do it right._

_Well I refuse, I refuse, and I refuse!_

She started on the other side of her head now, deftly pulling the hair into a braid, then organizing them so they fell in a naturally appealing way. Her voice never stopped as she worked with her hair, and when she finished, she began to apply unnecessary makeup. Her eyes darkened further, her lips forming a cute constant pout. She could look much older than twelve could, but she chose to look slightly younger instead, today. She toyed with the ruffled hem of the thigh-length skirt. Itachi usually insisted that the skirt be below her knees, but she felt today was special and hoped that he would allow her, this once. Braided and pony tailed and dealt with the way she had, her hair was exactly the same length as her skirt. She smiled into the mirror.

_Whoa, I never meant to brag, but I got him where I want him now. Whoa, it was never my intention to brag, to steal it all away from you now. But god does it feel so good, Cause I got him where I want him now. And if you could then you know you would. Cause god it just feels so, it just feels so good…_

The music shut off then, a hand on the stereo off button. She turned to look at the owner of the hand. A handsome man with dark brown hair, stood behind her. She paused in mid-application of lip-gloss. Itachi Uchiha. She adored him. She really did. He was one of the few people she deemed worthy to talk to, and she told him everything. He usually listened. This was not something she would talk to him about.

"If you are going to listen to crappy music, you should at least try to be considerate of others when you do it." Amaya rolled her eyes at him, the gesture worth more than words, carrying impossible contempt. He twitched, but only slightly. He'd teleported into her bathroom. It never irked her when he did, though she would have considered it an invasion of privacy had it been anyone else. His lips twitched into a smirk.

"Were you singing that crap?" He asked. One eyebrow rose slightly higher than the other did.

". . ." she refused to answer this, instead giving him a look that told him, all too clearly, what she thought of his question. He was almost amused; really, he was. The girl was so precocious, having all the most subtle aspects of being a woman down pat before her body was ready to catch up. Itachi himself had been precocious-, the thought stopped there.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Amaya met his gaze fearlessly.

"A skirt..." Annoyance flared in the silvery depths of his dark eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest in irritation. "I can wear whatever I want, Itachi." She said, attempting to be independent. "Are you going to change me?" he lifted his fist and lightly struck the top of her head with it, bonking the girl. His eyes were serious.

"If I have to, yes." She glared at him.

"You're going to have to. I am not going to change." She told him, holding her ground. Itachi only sighed.

"Raiso!!" the male appeared, his grey eyes emotionless as his tone, yet somehow conveying a slight irritation.

"What is it?" Itachi cared not a whit for Raiso's aggravation.

"I'm going to change your daughter's clothes." Itachi announced bluntly. "Do you have any problem?" Raiso raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with what she is wearing?" He asked, hid voice deadpan. Now, He was amused.

"Do you not see her skirt!?" Itachi demanded, irritated beyond any sort of reasoning. Raiso almost rolled his eyes. Almost.

"She looks fine. But if you feel the need, go right ahead, Itachi." Raiso said, giving the fifteen-year-old carte blanche to do what he wanted to his twelve year old daughter. It wasn't like Itachi would hurt her. Raiso didn't care. Itachi grabbed amaya's arm and pulled.

"Got it."

"You wouldn't." She challenged the male, glaring at him as He dragged her all the way to her room. She refused to be literally dragged, her pride not allowing for such a thing. Instead, she walked. Arriving in the room, Itachi threw her onto the bed. She landed on her back hard, but recovered quickly and stood as Itachi rifled through her closet. She sighed, and exasperated look on her face. a remarkable feat for a twelve year old girl with few female role models. Itachi pulled out a long skirt.

"Itachi, you're not going to do this." The raven said, irritated.

"Says. Who?" The male retorted. Amaya crossed her arms, somehow feeling like she was being childish, that she was wrong. this only made her sterner in her resolve to win. It was an uphill battle, and the sun was in her eyes. She tossed her head so the braid that fell over her shoulder moved back.

"My god, Itachi, you are such a prude..." she snapped. "Raiso Didn't have an issue with my damn clothes, why do you?"

"Because." He said. Grabbing her, he ripped her skirt off roughly and tossed the long one at her. "Put it on." He said, ignoring her squeals of protest. Her hand automatically snatched the cloth from the air.

"And If I say no?" She asked, eyeing the torn piece of fabric that had been her cute skirt. She glared at him.

"Then you will be in your panties for the rest of the day." Amaya only smirked.

"It would bother you more than it would bother me." she retorted, smirking. Itachi sighed.

"I was hoping not to have to do this..." He turned the mangekyou on her. She tried not to look, but the blood-red shade of them drew her eyes and she was lost. "Put. It. On." Itachi said, as the Sharingan spun in his eyes. She resisted as much as possible, but in the end failed and put the skirt on. Itachi shut the sharingan off and bowed to Amaya. "Thank you, Amaya-sama." She made a face at him and mentally vowed to walk around in a bathing suit as soon as the weather would permit. Itachi turned and started to walk away. Suddenly, all her irritation with her Itachi-kun vanished, and she ran up to hug him from behind. He only sighed as she mumbled an apology. She always apologized.

This time... He didn't ask why.

* * *

_**Kunzite- **__a reddish purple semiprecious stone_

**_Precocious- _**developed or mature, especially mentally, at an unusually early age, or showing such advanced development

_**Carte Blanche-**__ permission or authority given to somebody to act with freedom or discretion_

_**Prude-**__ somebody who is easily offended by matters relating to sex or nudity._

Little Sasuke:ONIII-CHAAAAAN!!!!  
Itachi: -vein pulses in his upper left eyelid-


	6. Death Visions

I don't won anything except Riku, Momo, and the plot. the prologue could be added to this chapter in the beginning, so you could read it that way instead, just insert a time-skip of about (say, oh... I dunno,) ten years or so. To reference yourself, Itachi was Three years old, and Sasuke was not yet born in the first part, now Itachi is thirteen, and Sasuke seven, that makes this, yes, the time of the Uchiha clan massacre.

* * *

_The Oracle_

_Chapter Five_

_Death Visions_

_"This is the last life you'll take, if not to protect…"_ The white haired girl jerked out of her chair in the academy. Eyes wide and desperate, she upset her chair, knocking it to the ground. She nearly fell with it. In detangling herself, she was deaf and blind. She was blind to the worried and strange looks that shot in her direction, deaf to the questions being asked of her, the demands for her to answer. She barely registered the helping hand of one of the students, or his words of defense of her. She turned to look into the face of Iruka, and in gratitude, she brushed her lips against his before running out of the class. The male's face was red, as though he were being hung upside down by his ankles and all the blood in his body was rushing to his head. Ibiki tried to stop her, but in the trying, she lifted her hands and grabbed the edge of her left glove. It was a warning, clear as crystal. This kind of threat was inexcusable, and he was fully ready to subdue her and suspend or possibly expel the girl, but her words froze him.

**_"Let me go, Sensei, or divine blood will be on your hands."_** The words were delivered in a very un-Momoka-like snarl, her eyes the convincing factor more even than her threat or her warning. Divine blood he understood to be Riku. That Riku was in danger… It was difficult to fathom, but he stopped protesting and let her run. Her eyes, filled with pain and worry, were as deep as Riku's own. In Kurenai's eyes, Momoka had earned much respect. Taking on a chunin and making him back down was no small feat for an academy student, even one on the cusp of graduation. Ibiki could not continue to teach, he called off class early, deciding to go to the Hokage and inform him of the girl's behavior. The Sandaime was furious. Why had he let her go alone!? Full teams of ANBU were sent out to retrieve them. It was a hell of a time for Itachi to go missing… He could always locate the girl. If Riku were in danger, if she were hurt within the boundaries of the land of fire, it would cause another war.

Momoka ran, her feet flying over the ground as she flew through the streets of Konoha. Her speed was swift, as though all the demons of hell were assuming her role, tracking her. She feared herself, that she would be late, that she would fail, that she would be stopped by someone and be unable to do what needed to be done. She ran past Kakashi and Skidded, halting in front of him. Not seeing Riku in the vicinity, however, she continued to run. Kakashi looked up at the girl as she ran away and blinked his one visible eye.

Stopping at the threshold of the house of Raiso Marise, she announced herself quickly and Riku stepped out. The run had winded the young girl, and her words were mostly unintelligible at the beginning. Riku spent about two minutes trying to decipher her before looking over the other girl's shoulder.

"Listen, Momoka, I have to be somewhere. You can tell me about this later, okay?" Momoka's eyes flew wide and she stood in the doorway, her arms spread wide out, blocking the way. "Momo, come on…" When the girl refused to move, Riku grew furious. Momoka's eyes flew wide.

"I-I had a vision, and-"

**_"Momoka…. Move from my way."_** The goddess's eyes flashed their most dangerous, and the Oracle was more than a little surprised that the earth wasn't shaking under her feet. She moved away from the door and fell against it crying. Although Momoka didn't know it, she was not the only one who knew Riku was not coming back. The goddess knew so as well.

* * *

I still hate this chapter. . 


	7. The Colour Of Blood

_I wrote this under the influence._

_Under the influence of what, you may ask?_

_under the influence of a beautiful Orochimaru Fan-fiction_

_named _**_Baik._**

A fic so _death-pretty_ It's grip entangled any who read it, and refuse to let go.

* * *

_The Oracle_

_Chapter Six_

_The Colour Of Blood_

She was his best.

She still remembered the first time she knew she was a demon.

She remembered it painfully well.

She remembered the blood;

The looks of horror;

And the delight of killing.

She remembered it all too well, the first time she had taken a life. He had been there. He had seen her. And he had smiled. That was when she knew he was like her too.

_That_ was when she knew the colour of blood ran through him too.

Blood burst forth from a deep slice to the man's leg. This would stun most young children, but she only smiles. A smile that is so beautiful…

Radiant.

_That_ is what this smile is. Radiant, blissful, and worshipful, and He knows. He _knows._

She would be the best of his ninja, if only she would survive this. He cannot see how the child would- _could_ survive, she must have been exhausted. The bodies that littered the floor numbered at least fifty, and she was young… too young to take so many….

The blood. It was so beautiful, so _pretty…_ Not pretty, like sunshine or butterflies, but _pretty like- _**_death._** So _death-pretty death-pretty death-pretty,_ she needed _more._ More. And more, and _more._ She knew someone was watching but she disregarded him. She would take his blood, she knew, she wanted it as well. And what she wanted, she would have. There would be no more denial. No one would ever deny her again. And when she said no,

It would mean no.

No means NO.

The pale man watched her fight, marveling at the girl's endurance. She was thin, but not waif-like, not delicate the way he _enjoyed seeing young children that were broken,_ but she drew him in. In. In. In. Her obsession was obvious. When he had begun watching her, it was obvious _at least to him if no one else,_ that she was fighting to defend herself, and killing because they had hurt her. At the first drawn blood, that changed. She killed…. She massacred them without any hesitation, though her strength was something to look into. He wanted to step in, but also wanted to watch. To wait and see… how this girl would fare.

Her eyes were drawn. Drawn. Drawn. This man watching meant her no harm but he was so _death-pretty,_ like the blood was, so alluring, and she wondered if the man's blood would be more than the others had been. His eyes **_–she could see cruelty behind them_**** and did not realize **_**she was one of the few who could-**_ Were so alluring, the kohl darkened lilac rimmed-

She was watching him, and not paying attention to the battle, he knew, a deadly mistake for anyone to make. Those that were left, the thirty or so men took notice of her distraction and decided to take advantage. Now, it was his time to make a move, before he lost this delicious prize. He shifted slightly, and her eyes narrowed in recognition of his movement-

He was moving. The man had decided to come forward and- _the posture was too wrong for him to intend her harm-_ her hand flicked out to her side. A bright blue flare of chakra blasted through the attacker, precisely aimed to destroy. She knew he would try to protect, to save her, and she did not need saving. Not from this man, from any _man_ at all. Blood burst forth and she heard someone exclaim of her **demonry,** how she must have some **_fierce magic._** Her eyes held to the man's as she spoke, her voice singing in the air, as she spoke to him, to them, to the world, as a blood red haze fell on her body, the haze vaporized blood from the man condensing and falling down around them. Her words rang, _singing_ in the air, echoing long after she stopped speaking.

_No demonry can match me,_ was her boast, _No fierce magic protects me from your sinful hands filled with your lechery. I am my own power. I do not need any one to save me or help me; I can do it alone._ Orochimaru smiled sinfully, a smile that sent shivers down her spine. A sword swung at her, and even those cruel yellow eyes missed when the sword changed hands and sliced off the attacker's head. He did not, however, miss the demonic gleam of her eyes, or how, when she swung the sword again _–too heavy for her, but she wielded it well-_ though it did not touch the man, he was still sliced apart. And when she rested on the sword, breathing heavily, all her opponents fled or dead, her young body on the brink of a breakdown, he offered her lodging, a place to stay, to belong.

The girl lifted her head, and through her exhaustion, she was regal as any queen.

"I need no one." Orochimaru smiled.

"Then think of this as…" he paused for a moment, trailing off as if he could not find the words, though he knew exactly what he was to say to her, "a respite, of sorts. And an offering, from a mere mortal, to such a goddess that I must admit stands before me." Her eyes narrowed.

"I will have your blood on my hands one day."

"What better way to do so than to follow me? I will not take you by force, my dear, so if this is the goal you with to attain, you must follow." He was confident that she could be, if not broken, then turned to his will in time to be the most perfect of his vessels.

"Does this not concern you? A snake is always a snake, after all; one proffered kindness to it only for it to turn around and bite the hand that shelters it. It is foolish to invite thus into your home." His amber eyes flickered with true amusement at her snake analogy, and then became snakelike in and of themselves as he summoned several to him silently, and without even a shift of his body. Though it was not really his body, after all… oh no. Orochimaru could not remember the last time he had his own body, nor what that body felt like, since he had defected from Konoha, he supposed.

"Male and female snakes of the same species have nothing to fear from the other."

"Now you're being arrogant. Whoever says you are the same species as I am?" Orochimaru chuckled softly, and she felt him to even her woman's core. His amusement derived from the way she gave him her words, as though she were superior, She in control, she the one doing the offering, and him who would stand to gain from their relationship. Though, he mused, the last one was undoubtedly true.

"I am…" he did not continue, did not elaborate. Any further speech on his part would only give her something to fight against, something to struggle with, something that would _–eventually, because even _**_he_**_ could be manipulated by this girl, he was starting to feel-_ let her slip free. This calm assertion left her no recourse. And letting something so valuable slip away was simply not an option. It was not.

She gave in with grace, and agreed to follow him. In her mind, he died a million ways, and she tasted his blood on her lips, the coppery-sweet taste. Her arm tugged on his, and she looked up at him. At her request _–and with a secret _**_smirk_**_ she disregarded, because-_ **he is nothing near a clown, but he is just as tricky as one. He is there for no one's amusement, but they whisper that **_**Death is macabre.**_ He allowed her to make a shallow slice on his arm and drink from it. Oh, yes…

She would be his best.

_Here, my little psycho child, drink my blood._ Orochimaru thought to himself with his secret smirk as the girls' tongue passed over his wound. _I am just as psychotic as you._

She was his best.

**_She still remembered the first time she knew she was a demon._**

_She remembered it painfully well._

_She remembered the blood;_

**The looks of horror;**

**_And the delight of killing.

* * *

_**

This fic, as I said before, is dedicated to Novocaine, but is nowhere near the level of lovely _death-pretty_ that that authors wOrK is. **_because oRochImaRu is gOdgODgOD to us all, as you must all know._** And to me, Novocaine's Baik is the holy grail of all Orochimaru fics.

(Great... now I sound like a fangirl...)

I actually rushed through the last chapter to get to this one before I lost this Idea for it. It's still pretty short though, but I love it so much. It is probably the worst thing I have ever written (at least, In my opinion,) but I tried. I couldn't get it to match what I wanted or for it to come close to Baik, but I tried. I tried, I tried, I tried. oh well. It took me seven revisions and four-and-a-half days to get this chapter done, and the more I revised it, the worse it seemed to get. tears I guess that's what I get for being a fan-girl. The chara he is observing will come into play later on. I do realise that I really did not give a description of her, but there will be chapters in the future dedicated to her looks. For now, it's enough to know that she is just another one of the crazy abandoned strays that oro picked up. The reason she was fighting will appear soon also.


	8. Even Itachi Can get lost in Dreams

No, I wrote this before I read Novocaines bella/sirius fic. I almost deleted this chapter, but actually, it's important to know for later on in the story, so I decided to keep it. In the end, I toned down detail a lot from my first draft, though I'm told it is still packed with too much detail. I don't know, I just write what comes to mind.

* * *

_The Oracle_

_Chapter Seven_

_EICD_

Itachi hated it. Hated her. He hated her beyond reason, beyond passion, beyond life, her, and everything that she stood for, even as his mouth formed the syllables of her name in a plea. Louder, she demanded, and louder he gave, feeling his pride cave to the necessity of release from this eternal torture. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, an invasion she allowed and rejoiced in, knowing how it signified his cracking self-restraint. Her tongue did battle with his, within their mouths, but she did him the small concession of allowing him to win, it was just one small battle in the entire scheme of things, as his artful tongue-work coaxed a moan from her throat that she made no effort to suppress. Her fingers on her left hand tangled in his hair, her wedding ring glinting in the light of the room as her right hand checked the night table next to her. Picking up the object she had been searching for, she released his hair and pulled away from the kiss.

"I… am going to…" his voice lost some of its strength when he noticed the object in her hands. It almost shook. Not this again, his mind almost whined as she coated the object liberally with a tube of lubrication she had obtained from the same location as the object in her hand. "K-Kill you…" he trailed off, his breathing already shallower, no matter his attempts to regulate it. Her beautiful lips curved in a sadistic smirk.

"Now, now, Itachi-kun… don't say such things. They're hurtful…," she teased, running the head of the vibrator along her lips. Itachi gritted his teeth and shut his eyes against the assault he knew would not be long in coming. "And just make me want to punish you a little more…." The thing found its way to the opening of his ass, and he heard a clicking noise. She had never put it in on before, and this new sensation had him hard pressed not to moan. She moved it in so slowly he shivered from its lack more than its entrance. When it was finally in, she shifted it to vibrate against his prostate. He tried not to moan, but his body betrayed him, an inaudible moan bubbled to the surface, and his back arched upwards in pleasure. "Especially after we have such fun together…"

"D-Die…" he managed to say somehow, through the pleasure that ricocheted through his system. "Or let me go…" This second part was needy, almost begging, and she smiled to hear it. She turned back to look at him, one eyebrow raised in a questioning way. She would make him say it, again, because she loved to hear him say those words to her, loved to bend, twist, and nearly break him this way. She was an angel, but an angel among barbarians is only the most barbaric of them all. He moaned as her hand grasped his weeping cock and pumped it slowly, coaxingly, as her tongue danced the head. It flickered back and forth over the tip of the organ in her adoring hand, back and forth and sometimes into the slit. He let out a shuddering breath when the vibrator clicked off.

"L-let me go…" he semi-whimpered, and she shook her head no, letting her hair whisper back and forth over his thighs and lower hips with that motion. Erotic. Everything the woman did was so erotic, she could turn him on simply breathing; his body knew to react to her by now, and it had been difficult to last the meal the night before when all her words laced with innuendos that only he knew of. And her hand so lazily trailed on his thigh, massaging between his legs at the most inopportune moments when he was speaking where he could only continue. He would draw attention to it, demand for her to stop, if her youngest daughter was not at the table. She had barely the understanding of what friendship was, so soon, he did not want the girl asking questions, neither of him nor of her mother about why her hand had been where it was. Her mother would tell her exactly why, and Itachi would rather the girl not know, not yet.

"Why should I?" The black-haired woman asked of him lazily when it became apparent that he would not continue on his own. "You want to let me go, and then you want to fuck me, right?" His mouth opened to form words, but the vibrator clicked on again, scattering thoughts like a cold mid-winter breeze. He had had his eyes shut; now they opened slightly to look at her, before shutting again in pleasure. Words would not come to him properly, and Itachi refused to babble incoherently or scream and moan the way his body wanted him to. He wanted to cum. He refused to beg. But his body did it for him, in the way that it shifted and moved under her caresses and the maddening machine inserted into his ass so deep he felt full. He had woken to raging hormones, to wishing she were dead, to this bondage. He had gone from pleasant dream to sexual torture with this merciless, pitiless vixen. She pulled it from in him, nearly all the way, and his body almost cried for the loss, before she thrust it back into him hard. So hard, in fact, that it did manage to tear another moan from his throat, and his body shivered from the force. "You want me and my sexy body to let you inside. You want to push your long, hard dick into my throbbing wet cunt…" Her voice had taken on a seductive tone that would have any normal, unsexed up male on her in an instant, and he jerked in his bonds. The roots that tied him to the bed were adamant, however, that he should stay attached to the mattress.

He was only thirteen, after all. He had made such a valiant effort to resist, but could not continue to defy his body. His body ached for her. He had always thought that was a foolish phrase. The body could not be in pain simply because of a desire, he had thought, but now he knew he was wrong. His body did throb with his pulse in such a way that it was agonizing simply to exist in this world without reprieve. His blood was pounding inn his head, over the words that he said. He could not hear himself bend more to her will, even as the bending started to splinter. "Senseless…" he said, gasping for breath as she shut the vibrator off again. "You… forgot senseless…." He told her.

"You want to fuck me senseless." She stated, and he nodded, his eyes opening to look at her. Their eyes locked, green on silvery-black, both of them willful, even if one set were more tired than the other. They were both headstrong. Itachi's next word would send a thrill down her spine, making her aware of the wetness between her legs. She shifted from it to make herself more comfortable, as Itachi's voice ranged in the lowest of sex tones; she could barely breathe from his voice alone, and his words, combined with his voice were powerful enough almost to send her into an orgasm.

"As many times as it takes…. I want to fuck you into the wall, so that your body leaves an imprint. I want to fuck you to the floor so you mindlessly scream my name even when I am through. I want to fuck you into this mattress so hard you will never think of anything but me, ever again." She rewarded his bluntness with a kiss; the kind that made stars supernovae behind his eyes. He forgot she bound him to the bed, forgot she was married and this was supposed to be a torture, forgot everything except her. She demanded her name from him again, and again he gave, but becoming aware, that he was pushing her to a precipice. He smiled, almost laughing to know that he could affect her so, make her as desperate as she seemed to be, because now, she was pulling at her own clothes, throwing them aside in a manner most untypical of her.

He wanted her to release him so he could further enjoy this development, but knew, somehow, that she would not. That would mean releasing more control, and above everything else, this woman needed to be in control of him at least, if nothing else. Her naked breasts grazed over him as she straddled him, and smirking as she shifted, caught one into his mouth. He could feel her shiver, and when her arms wrapped around his head and pulled him closer, he smirked, tasting her heartbeat. It was quick, and throbbed strongly against his lips. He sucked a little harder, and bit onto the nipple lightly. He had wanted to be rough, but not yet, not yet. A little patience would go a long way to getting what he wanted. If he scared her off now, he would never have a chance like this again. She moaned his name, and he suckled harder still, and then abruptly turned his head. She whimpered a little.

"Itachi-" before her voice really registers and does all those wonderful- but so god-fucking-annoying when you're trying to think- things to his head, he speaks again, in the tone he used before, the one that had sent her into this frenzy to begin with.

"Let me go… and I will show you exactly what it means to be an Uchiha. I will give you what you need…" His voice trailed off suggestively. She shook her head, denying him and he tried again. "Release me…" He used her name this time, and she moaned, but shook her head more fiercely. The green-eyed vixen ground her crotch into his, but without allowing penetration, his cock rubbed against her opening and he moaned to feel the slick flesh against his needy dick. His mouth opened to try again, but she shifted and turned on the vibrator again. She could feel the slight vibrations, not as strongly as he could, through his dick, and she moaned, rubbing her clitoris against him. The roots released him finally, and he slammed himself into her, grabbing her hips and forcing his dick into her wet pussy. He assumed her distraction had given them reprieve when she shut off the vibrator, because she looked surprised that he was free, but now he would make good on his threat. He would fuck her senseless. He rolled them over so she was underneath and thrust into her hard and fast. She did try to resist him. Itachi would have none of this, grabbing both of her hands in one of his and thrusting into her, and eventually, she stopped calling for him to stop. Her eyes glazed over with lust, she pulled free of his now slack grip and wrapped her arms around him. Her mouth found his, and they kissed avidly. Her lips murmured his name repeatedly, as though she did not really register them, and her body wracked with pleasure. Itachi slammed his cock into her, fighting against release even as she came to her own, her body pressed flush against his as his name became a scream on her lips. He fought, and fought against it through her shudders and tremors, through the obvious signs that she was about to pass out from pleasure overload, but not through this.

Itachi exploded inside her when the vibrator turned on again without warning, as he had never removed the damn thing. The force of his climax made the woman scream again, and he collapsed on top of her, the both of them breathing heavily. Her eyes hazed out with pleasure, she murmured his name continuously, her hand stroking his hair gently back out of his face. He felt sated and almost content. He almost forgot himself in his body's reaction to snuggle into her, almost lost himself to being a thirteen year old who had slept with a beautiful woman, could almost think that she was his and that he would be able to do this everyday to this sexy vixen; that she would be with him like this forever. But that was what woke him, that train of thought. Finally awake, he saw the woman predominant in his dream wrapped around him, her finger circling his belly button; his shirt tugged up to reveal it, and he groaned. A fucking dream. None of that had been real. But as she looked up at him inquisitively, and asked him about his sleep, since, after all, he always awoke first, he resolved to make it happen. He would fuck the woman.

And then kill her.

He had almost forgotten.

As he sat up to take stock of the state of himself, he almost groaned to feel the shifting slide of his underwear. Itachi presumed her children or her husband was home when she made no move to stop him, to start her daily torture. None of her usual 'implements of doom' were in place. But the smiling gleam in her eyes was far to knowing for his taste.

Stupid _bitch._

He hated her.

Really, He did.

He would kill her.

Someday really soon.

Before he could fall for her.

He would kill her someday soon.

Before he would have to explain this little affair to Amaya.

He would not explain this to her.


	9. Atonement

Yeah... I don't have anything to say for this...

_

_The Oracle_  
_Chapter Eight_  
_Atonement_

Naruto loved, once. You know this, do you not? Of course, you do… everyone knew. It is not as if he kept this a secret. He has not _the time for such things,_ he claims now, and leaves you to wonder why. Naruto has his hyperactive, happiness, you think, and of course, he is Naruto, so he is fine. Fine. Naruto is always fine.

NARUTO IS NOT FINE.

Let us disabuse ourselves of this petty notion that because _all seems well, all is well._ All is not well with our beloved Hokage, citizens, and you must not think it is. If we would remove ourselves from this idiotic notion of that, if he acts fine, he is fine, then we would be much better off.

.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**.**.**.**.**..**.*.

Naruto is busy.

Naruto is always busy.

Naruto is demi-permanently busy.

Naruto is the Hokage, after all. And we must remember this. Naruto is too busy for love. This is what he says, and Sasuke will not ask him if it is the truth, because Sasuke knows that if it is not, Naruto will answer him with an equally personal question that Sasuke does not want to talk about. Sasuke has his demons.

Naruto is his own demon.

No, Not Kyuubi. Kyuubi is no longer a threat to Konoha. Kyuubi is nothing, compared to Naruto himself, and Naruto knows this. Naruto is repenting now. But it will never be enough. So he refuses love.

Because it was Sasuke's leaving that helped him through this.

Because Kakashi's death was Naruto's fault.

Naruto was not fast enough, not strong enough, not skilled enough, and Sakura's eyes had once again filled with tears. And he had promised they would not. He had promised his friend that she would never again have cause to cry. And this promise, he failed. Naruto was a failure. And beyond this failure, He had lost another comrade. His sensei, second surrogate father figure, Kakashi sensei was dead. And It was all Naruto's fault.

Do you dare say it was not?

You do not know.

YOU DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING.

.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**.**.**.**.**..**.*.

Citizens of Konohagakure! Lend me your ears! Belief in the way of truth is a denial of power! Our hokage claims to be too busy taking care of ust to care for himself! Let it be known, that his adoring populace will not stand for this! Our leader must take care of himself as he does for us! This punishment he laces upon his fragile heart is naught but a dreaming disaster!

.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**.**.**.**.**..**.*.

"Paperwork... paperwork paperwork..." Naruto said, semi-obsessively, searching through all the piles of scrolls and mission reports on his desk. "So much to do..." he murmured, looking for a pen with which to start. He was vaguely aware of Rock Lee's voice, but he ignored it for the most part. Finally finding the object of his quest, he kissed it lightly. The blue ink pen, if it had a soul and mouth on which to speak, would wonder to itself why the most respected man in the land adored it so much. To Naruto, the pen was just another escape. All the paperwork he did took up most of his time. The rest of his time was spent training or pestering Tsunade with endless questions on different Hokage things. He was not beyond asking for help, not this point in life. And this treaty, likely to take quite a few weeks, was just another distractionary tool. Naruto filled his life with distractions.

He distracted himself enough, he could forget that he was in love and didn't deserve to be.

He could forget almost anything when he immersed himself in the carrer he'd been seeking since the beginning of his miserable life.

But he'd forgotten how to just be himself.

Forgotten, that the most important thing about his dream was not earning only the respect of the village, but also their love and adoration. That being a leader was more than strategy and safe planning.

It was about taking charge of a group of people who looked up to him for guidance, and would see him as a role model.

And he refused to beleive... that he deserved love as well.

.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**.**.**.**.**..**.*.

I don't need love. I don't need it, not at all. All I need is the people who need me, and the world, my world, my land of those... the villagers... Yeah, that's all I need. All I need is just them, because they need me. She'll never love me anyway, I'm just like a kid to her. She has her own duties to attentd to anyway.

Naruto wanted to slam his head into the wall. He was in love with the Otokage...

And she hadn't a damn clue.

.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**.**.**.**.**..**.*.

On top of the hokage mountain, sat someone who really didn't belong, but seemed to fit perfectly. Her head lifted under a hat proclaiming the word Sound on it. Her eyes were shaded from the sun, their colour made indistinguishable from black by the shadow that covered them. It was a bright, sunny day, and no one would be able to look up and see her. She let herself drop down from the mountain, landing lightly on her feet, protected by a bubble of sound energy and chakra. Orange hair tumbled over bare shoulders, loose and free to be blown about by the wind as she decended, like an angel from thr heave4ns. Naturally red lips curved in a smile that could be called naught else but radiant. And as she walked closer to the town, no one dared stop her progress, and even Neji, fresh from his mission, was surprised that the woman had made the trek from Otogakure to Konohagakure faster than he had. He noticed, even the sexless and aloof Hyuuga had noticed, this woman's excelling beauty, and could not stop the racing of his heart -though, he told himself, it was from exertion, and not the fact that- when she smiled at him, she was even more beautiful than she had been when she was smiling at nothing. He made to lead her to the Hokage's mansion, but the finger she placed over his lips had his eyes fluttering shut, and his body wanting to react. Her voice did nothing to help his situation.

"It is quite alright, Neji-kun, I do not need a guide. I have been here before." He fought the desire to lick his lips and nodded, forcing himself to reopen his eyes, to look at that smile again. Her tongue darted over her lips, and he nearly groaned at the images that sprung to mind. Years of training was the only thing that kept him silent. Neji nodded curtly to her as she moved her finger from his lips.

"Yes, Otokage-sama. I will not disturb you further then." One of her hands lifted to his hair and tucked a strand back behind his ear, and he fought to not lean into the touch, almost losing the war against his own body's reactions.

"I hope I will have oppourtunity to meet with you again." The woman said, removing her hand from him and turning to walk away. He wanted to answer her curtly, but it would not have been quite as flat as he wanted it to be. Disregarding his report, forgetting all else, he simply dissapeared to his home in the Hyuuga compund and, not caring who could see, placed his hands on himself and rectified the problem that the woman had caused with his body. Gasping for breath, his body slumped against the door and slid down after the white spray had gone everywhere. He had never done such a thing to himself before, never had intended to, but the woman...

And she was absolutely oblivious.

.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**..**.**.**.**.**.**.**.**..**.*.

Naruto is fine. Fine. He is fine, as he sits in his office working on neverending paperwork. Fine, as he trains until his whole body hurts and he can't think to remeber to breathe. Fine, as he chatters away rapidly in what sounds like excited gibberish to anyone who doesn't know him. He is fine, because he is Naruto, fine, because he is the Hokage, fine, because he looks fine, acts fine, must be fine. And no one sees how he hurts, how in everything he does, there is some kind of apology, how he seemes to be atoning for some private sin. Everyone knows that Naruto loves the Otokage. Everyone, except her, and Naruto himself. He refuses love.

He refuses to love.

and Sasuke leaving, just as the woman would be arriving was not planned, oh, no, not at all. Not because maybe she might fall for him, Naruto sent Sasuke away on another mission. Not because if his best friend noticed Naruto's behaviour towards the woman he would make Naruto do something about it. Not because every woman with any kind of female sex hormones -what was it called, estrogen?- would fall to Sasuke and his kind smiles or sarcastic smirk, but because Naruto truly wanted that treaty with the mist. That was the only reason Naruto sent Sasuke away when he knew the woman would be coming.

Really.

That was the only reason.

_really._

I'm being serious...

Okay, _maybe._ let's say _maybe_ Naruto is a little jealous of how well Sasuke can handle women. Lets say _maybe_ Sasuke happens to be the personification of _every_ woman's _**sexual fantasy.**_

It doesn't mean that was why Naruto sent him away...

Does it?

It can't mean that...

Can it?

_

This Chapter is, I think, probabaly my worst so far. I haven't even read over it more than once to check for errors. I think I'm just going to leave it as is before I decide to delete it. It took me all of twenty minutes to type this down, and I am just... Ugh. I'm feeling sick today anyway. Stupid influenza...


	10. Innocent Naive Beautiful

_The Oracle_  
_Chapter Nine_  
_Innocent. Naïve. Beautiful._

If. Only. If only. If only, If only, If only.

There were few things worthy of her anger; few things truly upset the girl, no matter what theatrics she had learned from her mother. Itachi knew her like no other. No one else could claim to understand even a part of her mind like the one he did. But even he could not claim to know her full mind. And when he emerged from the shower, semi-wet and clad in only a towel, the last thing he expected was for Amaya to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his neck. She was much taller now. Though she was not as tall as he was, and likely would never be, she was still strong enough to push him back into the wall. Even with the advantage of surprise, this was a rare feat for any to accomplish. He kept his hands at his sides and addressed the head burrowing its way into the place where his neck and shoulder joined. He dared not even swallow for a second, so surprised he was by her action. Finally, he managed to speak, in a voice steady, yet slightly roughened by his self-control.

"Amaya… I'm Naked." She did not react for a moment, but her lips moved against his skin and he forced himself to keep his hands exactly where they were, at his sides. He noticed now the tense set to her shoulders, the –almost trembling- stance she took and sighed. "What happened?" Itachi asked this statement bluntly, forcing himself to be as rough with her he could manage. There was no way for him to be nice to her in a situation like this and keep control. At age fifteen, she was much more naïve than anyone of her standing had a right to be. Her voice nearly broke him, but her words brought him to firm ground quickly. She was very upset, and it showed in her voice. No one else would be privy to her words, he knew. She only told him of her problems, and no one else new she had true emotions. Her voice was almost scared, but it also shook with a slight anger. It had to have been something on the mission she had just finished.

"We… did well on the mission…" she started, and he nodded, knowing she would feel the motion. Shifting her, he managed to place his hands on her shoulders –and only her shoulders- and gently turn her around. He walked her to his room as she talked. "Jakuell, Matchi and I were told by Tzu-sensei to go shower..." Itachi's eyes closed, and he nodded. Arriving at his door, he pulled the scarf from around her neck and wrapped it around her blue eyes. She did not object at all, trusting him completely. His hands, chastely placed on her shoulders, guided her to sit at the bed in his room. He began to dress himself, as she continued, her posture demure and unassuming, but not self-conscious or uncomfortable. "I removed my clothing..." she continued, and he looked through his clothing; he finally selected something comfortable enough to sleep in, yet flexible enough to train or spar in, something Akina wouldn't object to cleaning blood out of. "And stepped into the shower room. I..." Itachi dressed quickly, his mind running through possibilities. One of her teammates had assaulted her in the bath. Her sensei had done so. There was enemy ninja. Some random pervert had been watching her. She had been hurt somehow. The ideas in his mind became more and more violent; he imagined himself killing people, who had somehow wronged her, upset her, his Imoto. "I think I'm going crazy." His mind stopped with all the force of a fly between a kunai and a tree. It was instant, and painful.

"What?" he asked, turning to look at her, pausing in the middle of buttoning his pants to look at her. Biting onto his lower lip, an indecisive move that he had only recently acquired from that bitch Akina, he thought. Just on eighteen, Itachi was only now, in Konoha, a legal adult _-If_ he had been a citizen and not a ninja that is. He buttoned the last snap and pulled the scarf from her eyes to look into them. The ice blue was murky, clouded and confused. "Why would you think that, Amaya?" he asked cautiously, making sure to use her name. Her hands found his blindly, and she held onto him like a lifeline. Her hands were cold, and it made his blood run with ice. Amaya was never cold when he was around. She stayed silent, and his mind raced with something akin to fear. He placed her hands against his chest, mentally wincing as he felt his heart slow from the cold touch. She was radiating the cold of the Marise now, and he refused- Itachi refused to let it take her. He could only hope he mattered enough to her for her to stop before he died, not for him, but for her. "Amaya?" he asked, and then swallowed, trying to control the slight tremors of his voice, almost inevitable from the cold. His other hand turned her face to look at him. "Amaya. _Look at me."_ Her eyes focused on him, laser-like, predatory almost, and his breath was a plume of white ice crystals from his mouth. He held her gaze, silvery-black on ice blue, stubborn as the devil herself. Her gaze finally softened, and she wrapped her arms around him again in a hug. The icy grip around his heart receded, and his breathing became less restricted, it stopped freezing upon contact with the air. He rested his head on hers as she held onto him, apologizing. She always apologized for things to him, whether they were her fault or not, and he had all but given up on trying to tell her to stop. "Just tell me what's wrong." he interrupted her gently, disengaging the tight grip of her arms from around his neck and looking her in the eyes again.

"I... I saw... someone in the mirror... a male." his eyes widened slightly, and one eyebrow lifted, but he waited for her to continue. "He-he... he was undressed, as I was, and a white liquid coated some of his lower body. Like milk." She looked up at him. "Like milk, but thicker. Like heavy cream, maybe." Itachi's eye twitched and a vein pulsed lightly over his temple. Too innocent. The girl was far too innocent. "He was very pale, and looked like hadn't slept much recently... his walk was uncomfortable, indecisive... unsure of himself." Itachi nodded as her voice and words became more critical, analytical, and less hesitant. "His hair was stuck up in the back like a shark, or the ass of a chicken perhaps, while the front hung down in fringes like bangs. The length was to his chin. His eyes were black, not like coal, but like obsidian; a reflective black or brown bordering on black, red-rimmed and nearly blood-shot." Her shoulders straightened slightly and she rolled them a moment, thinking. "He was toned. Definitely a ninja. Everything in his bearing suggested that training was perhaps the most important thing to him. He seemed the type _A_ personality. Cocky, arrogant, regal. Sur de lui- I am sorry. He was sure of himself and uncertain of himself as well." Itachi held up a hand to pause her. Amaya knew, understood the strangeness of her words, and she clarified them without Itachi saying a word. "He was unsure of the situation he was in. Perhaps something before had unsettled him, like the spilling of the liquid on himself, or his lack of sleep combined with seeing me, but he is the type to be sure of himself at all moments, as he recovered from the shock rather quickly. As for his location, I would have to say Konoha. It is the only logical location for him to have been." That last part was a bucket of water over Itachi's head that he had seen, but could not duck. She was describing his younger brother. He was sure of it now.

"We interacted for a moment. He couldn't seem to look away from my body, so when he met my eyes, I asked him if he'd enjoyed taking so much time to look me over. He..." Her voice hesitated for a moment, as she took the time to compose herself her voice became very clinical. "His eyes roamed my body again. It was predatory, the way he did it, like the way the men look at me here when I let my hair loose. It made my body react." Her hand clenched into a fist over her lower abdomen. "Here, it seemed to pulse with my heart, sending jolts of what felt like chakra through my system. My body tensed strangely, almost like when I fight-to-kill." Itachi let out a breath and tried not to imagine the changes she was talking about. He had known the conversation would take one of two directions eventually. She would have been upset either by him, or by her responses to him that she did not understand. Itachi wanted to kill something. Why couldn't Akina explain these things to her? "I don't believe he could hear me, because when he responded, I couldn't hear him." Itachi blinked, realizing he had zoned out part of her words, which was probably best for him anyway. "But he called me beautiful. I denied his words. It made me embarrassed... I think. I" The male sweat dropped. "Reached out to the mirror, because he did the same. My hand met his. I was surprised at this, and I pulled away; then the mirror became simply a mirror again, and I could see only myself." Itachi blew out a breath. He lifted a hand to his hair and pushed it back, out of his face, as the cold, damp tendrils had strayed. Water droplets ran down his bare back and dripped from the tips of his hair. Her hands set to pulling the moisture from his hair, using a jutsu to dry it. He almost smiled, and that _almost_ smile was _almost_ teasing.

"I see." He sat back and looked at her when she had finished. "Amaya… Were you embarrassed because you _enjoyed_ his gaze on you?" Her mouth opened wide, wider than her eyes, large and round as a genjutsu orb. Her face flushed bright red, and she looked down, away from him, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Itachi waited…, waited…, and waited…

"Yes…" she responded finally in a small voice, and he smiled to himself. "Yes… Yes, I enjoyed it a lot…" her voice was still that small, meek, almost-whisper, and he bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

"I know who you are referring to, Amaya." Itachi told her casually. "I always knew my brother would become a toy for women's Imaginations… tell me, Amaya, what are you imagining?" She looked up at him in confusion. She did not say it, but her face showed the thought clearly all over her features. _Huh?_ Itachi sighed and shook his head. "I forgot you wouldn't understand that." He placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair slightly. "I'm going to go talk to your father." She looked up at him expectantly, holding onto the hand that had been on her hair, and he blinked for a moment before remembering himself. He leaned down to kiss her, brushing his lips lightly over hers, and she closed her eyes as she always did. She smiled happily when he pulled away. His hand left hers and he sighed. So simple, so easy to please, his Imoto was. Walking away, he could hear a soft sigh from her that he disregarded in favor of speaking to that asshole father of hers.

*

If possible, I dislike this chapter more than I dislike the one before it. Itachi is sooooooo Ooc, in my opinion, but hey... It's my fic, so whatever.


	11. Ceteris Paribus

_The Oracle_

_Chapter Ten_

_Ceteris Paribus_

_**Semper Fidelius**_

The raven always likes to win things. Little battles, little things, against her brother that matter not at all in the end. _Nii-san,_ and she calls him to play another little game together, another little game together, another little game together. Another **fun** _little **game**_ of explain and react, explain and understand, they are all just games for her. And his little sister is beautiful. So beautiful, and so Naïve, and so fragile, he wants to hold on. Hold onto her and not let go, not let her get hurt, ever.

_Ice blue eyes focus on the heavens…_

Things surprise him, but not often. She surprises him with regularity. Daily, her beauty never ceases to dazzle. _Nii-chan. Nii-chan._ She calls him her brother, and so that is how he acts towards her. So naïve. So beautiful. So fragile. And yet, she is so strong, having survived in this family before he became a part of it, survived, and been independent. And his thoughts on her, his thoughts too do surprise. She is fully-grown now; she is no girl, but a woman. But it is hard to remember when she was not as mature as women are.

_Skies of blue filled with dark clouds of destruction..._

And when anything threatens her, when her blue eyes fill with tears –however temporary they may be- Her _Nii-chan, Nii-san, Onii-sama,_ is there for her, and protects her as best he can. And when she is angry, he calms her, cools her blood, helps her come back to herself, to being his Imoto. She is twenty-one, yet she confides in him as though she was still only ten, her trust in him has no bounds, no limits, she would tell him anything.

_A magic carpet that you rode on snatched right from under you…_

She smiles so beautifully. She reacts so instantly, it is hard to keep track. And before his eyes, she has become a woman. She is a woman, as _naïve_ still as any child, as innocent, as fragile… as strikingly beautiful as no other could match. And things start to fall apart; the centre cannot hold… Because she is a woman. A woman, a beautiful, desirable woman with the purity of a child still mostly intact; she is the epitome of beauty and desire. And she is his Imoto-chan, and he is her _Onii-san, Onii-chan, Onii-sama, Nii-san/chan/sama/kun…_ he is her brother.

_Magic and enchantment replaced with black magic and distraught…_

She is a woman now, and she reacts like one, without the understanding what comes with those reactions. He had failed to teach her what was inappropriate, what simply _should not be done,_ and now he was paying the price. He forgets so easily, how simple it is to confuse her, and speaks first without thinking. She warns him... _You do not want to know, Itachi-kun_ he does not heed her.

_Gone... fading... taken right from you..._

And now her hands are in his hair, it is loose and she has answered him with a touch from her lips to his. No innocence was in the gesture now, it was all demand, yet it was an offer he _Mmm and she moans against his lips_ was hard-pressed to be able to refuse. Her body against his was tempting, but his mind remembered her voice, not a moment ago, calling him brother.

_What can you do now...?_

_Brother_ and he pushed himself away from her forcefully, that memory giving him that ability. Her mouth had shaped perfectly to his. It was right, perfect, and yet so _wrong._ She only thought of him as her brother. She only saw him as her guardian. And her body pressed against his… He tore his mind away from that. Tore his mind away… from the feel of her breasts against his chest through cloth, the desire he could feel inside her, his self-control clutching tightly onto sanity.

_Soon things fade into white…_

Later, when he could look at her again, could breathe without wanting her mouth, move without feeling her body against his, he returned to explain and seek explanation. The last thing he expected was for her, after understanding what it meant and what it did to him, to do what she had done again.

_Then you wake up!_

And her mouth fused to his again, such perfection against his lips, the soft, gentle pressure, different from the demand of before spoke hidden volumes of which she would never find the words to express on her own. This time, he did not pull away. He has, for a moment, lost his breath. He has lost his mind, for a moment, a beautiful moment, because her mouth is on his as she is trying to talk without words. She was always a show, not tell kind of person, and she communicates through such lovely gestures.

_From a nightmare that felt so real… _

She lets go, she pulls away, and she apologizes. She is not looking at him again. And He tries to obtain clarification, to make sure she understands what and why she has done what she has just done. _It felt right…_ She said, and could not look at him. It felt right, and she did not have the ability to express it. And she looks at him, trying to explain again, because her words are insufficient, she knows. _It felt right, I… I_ her words are interrupted by a call from downstairs, and another time, he promises her, another time, they will talk of this.

_And you realize that if you do not fix the small cracks in your dreams,_

They will resolve this _and she is needlessly apologizing again as though she had done something **wrongwrongwrong** and she has not_ and he reassures her. He did not pull away from her. She has done nothing wrong. And he tells her, and she accepts this as fact: She is the epitome of desire and beauty.

_That nightmare will soon become a reality…_

* * *

_**Biotomegami**_

It was not easy, no matter what anyone would have thought. Lyanvis was a goddess by anyone's standards. And simply because he acted unaffected, and treated her always like a child, did not mean that that was how he truly felt. Orochimaru loved his goddess. He loved her, oh so dearly.

_Do not feel sorry for her_

And though he did not act it, he knew more about her than she would desire him to know. He always knew her movements, her actions; where she was, whom she was with, as any good father. And though his mind would protest it, when asleep, his subconscious would take over.

_She does not deserve it._

Lyanvis sat in a tree, her orange hair clipped out of her face. She looked at her hands as a small creature sat there, listening to the enchanting song she sang. The squirrel stared at her. The poor creature had no clue what was in store for him. Her beauty belied a truth, so simple as to be overlooked quite easily. His Lyanvis was not one for mercy.

_Even though they walk through and over her._

And her beauty knew no bounds, nor did her guile. She was not too shy, too innocent to use her body as her greatest weapon, to leave men entranced with her, drooling, gibbering wrecks. And she knew her thrall, she knew what her body could do, and how she could manipulate any man… as Kabuto had said, _she could seduce the dead_ without any effort whatsoever.

_She does not deserve pity, not one bit._

And if that beautiful smile would not seduce you, her movements would. Her complete mastery of her seductive powers, which –were not always on- but were on a great deal of the time…

_She is the queen of liars._

She was his greatest weapon, his greatest liar, his best servant. She was _Lyanvis_ and that was utter perfection. His little demon.

_The maker of masks—_

And no one would know… but she was truly demonic. She had shared with him her past. They trusted each other, implicitly.

_The starter of fires._

And if that was not enough, the girl could manipulate sound waves _naturally._ She was naturally, born with that ability. A few cuts here… a few changes there… And she was perfect.

_A completer of tasks._

Not, of course, that she had not been perfect before. But now, her voice was so sweet, she could charm the birds from the trees, and men from their lairs, their wives, their little worlds. Just like the poor squirrel in her hands.

_Using your lack of smarts to lie and outwit._

Of course, that wasn't all him… He hadn't tampered with her body's physique. Lyanvis had simply been born to be a rival to Tsunade in looks. It was total coincidence. Total coincidence that her body shape was that of Tsunade's, and her eyes were those of Itairiku's and her preferred hairstyle was that of Anko.

_Trying to fool them with bullshit._

And as he watched his goddess, her lips curving in a beautiful smirk, her song coming to an end, her fingers closed around the animal's neck and did not only snap it, oh no. she tore the head off, to watch the blood flow over her hands, spray onto her face, her partially exposed breasts. And her enjoyment of the blood was almost orgasmic… to watch, and most certainly for her, to feel.

_Watch her glass eyes spark with dishonesty_

Orochimaru had had no part in that. And he certainly had not plucked out the eyes of a dead goddess to give them to this living one. Now, why would he do such a thing?

_Watch her plastic lips drip with lies_

No. Lyanvis was natural, completely her own. He had not shaped her body into what it was. He had not given her those compelling green eyes that could pierce even to his soul, no matter what others thought.

_Trying to cover her tracks_

He had not made her wear her beautiful orange hair so that it looked like her head was ablaze from a distance, worn up, like a fan in the back… Though, he had given her the green jade butterfly clip she wore to keep it in place, and he had given her the ornamental chopsticks she wore when she tired of the clip…

_trying to fill in all the cracks._

He had not given her her independent nature, nor her little quirk of hanging on him, hugging him, holding him constantly. He had not made her want to be by his side. She wanted it on her own.

_Disguising, deceiving_

Though, of course, he had not tried to stop her. He also had not had Kabuto put anything in her body to enhance those beautifully large breasts of hers either.

_Greedy, and self-receiving._

Truly, he hadn't. And no, he had not imbued her with the traits of the women he most admired. He had not made her beautiful as Tsunade, as attached and clingy as Anko, nor as independent and Intuitive as Riku.

_Selfish with a dash of pure immaturity_

He had not given her the traits of the women he loved. She simply had them. She was born that way. And though his servants whispered it behind closed doors, this also was not true.

_Physically clean, lacking mental purity_

He had not fallen in love with her. He had not fallen in love with His beautiful Lyanvis. He did not dream of her when he slept, dream of being with her.

_She is secretive, inwardly inquisitive_

Until she forced him to do so.

_Always on her toes, constantly faking_

Simple touches, her body accidentally grazing against his, her constant declarations of her adoration for him… And that body belonged to Tsunade, those eyes of another goddess long dead… It was as though she had placed herself on earth solely to bring him to his knees.

_Just another criminal in the making._

**************************************************  
I actually like this chapter. I really do. It's divided into two sub-sections, Semper fidelius (ask a marine if you don't know what that means) and Biotomegami, which means Beautiful goddess of sound. [at least, in my own little world it does.]Ceteris Paribus because they are both two sides to the same coin. Opposites, equals, twins, sisters, best-of-friends, and yet they each want what the other has. Confused yet? don't be. I haven't even started on these two. I love them, so much... Each of the subsections has exactly 1000 words, without the titles. I personally like this chapter most of all. ... which probably means it sucks like hell. Oh well. It's dramadramadrama cause drama makes the world go round... ~starts singing~ Oh, by the way, in case you are interested in the poems up there, I'm transplanting them down here without the story in between. I know this chapter is random as hell. I actually intended to write this solely for me, but I just loved it too much to not share it, once I was done with it...

*********************************************************  
Semper fidelius' poem  
_Ice blue eyes focus on the heavens…_  
_Skies of blue filled with dark clouds of destruction..._  
_A magic carpet that you rode on snatched right from under you…_  
_Magic and enchantment replaced with black magic and distraught…_  
_Gone... fading... taken right from you..._  
_What can you do now...?_  
_Soon things fade into white…_  
_Then you wake up!_  
From a nightmare that felt so real…  
_And you realize that if you do not fix the small cracks in your dreams,_  
_That nightmare will soon become a reality…_

Biotomegami's poem  
_Do not feel sorry for her.  
She does not deserve it._  
_Even though they walk through and over her._  
_She doesn't deserve pity, not one bit._  
_She is the queen of liars._  
_The maker of masks-_  
_The starter of fires._  
_A completer of tasks._  
_Using your lack of smarts to lie and outwit._  
_Trying to fool them with bullshit._  
_Watch her glass eyes spark with dishonesty_  
_Watch her plastic lips drip with lies_  
_trying to cover her tracks_  
_trying to fill in all the cracks._  
_Disguising, deceiving_  
_Greedy, and self-receiving._  
_Selfish with a dash of pure immaturity_  
_Physically clean, lacking mental purity_  
_She's secretive, inwardly inquisitive_  
_Always on her toes, constantly faking_  
_Just another criminal in the making_


	12. What Naru Knows

_The Oracle_

_Chapter Eleven_

_What Naru Knows_  
***change***  
_Depravity_  
***Change back***  
_What Naru Knows_

* * *

Itachi crossed over to Sasuke's closet, picking out a dark blue yukata for his brother and pulled on his brother's favorite baby blue towel, taking it with them as he crossed the halls towards his room. Itachi entered, sliding the shoji open. He locked it from inside, rousing Sasuke's curiosity.

"Why did you lock it, aniki?" Sasuke felt a little surreal, confused. He wasn't this young, was he? The question had come automatically, unbidden from his lips. And he looked up at his brother, feeling very… short.

"I locked it because I don't want anybody disturbing us."

"Huh?"

Itachi planted a soft kiss on Sasuke's left cheek and silenced him. He placed the yukata and the towel on his desk chair, carried his brother towards the bathroom, and put him down.

They were silent for a while. Sasuke's giggles and Itachi's chuckles faded away into a comfortable silence as both of them basked in the heavenly, relaxing feel of the warm tub water. Itachi had submerged himself partially, his upper torso visible, while Sasuke's head and shoulders were the only things poking out of the green water, wide, somehow confused eyes looking curiously around. Itachi inwardly chuckled as he eyed his innocent, playing brother. Sasuke was still confused when his mouth chose to speak for him again.

"A-aniki… ano…" Sasuke started, twiddling his thumbs. Itachi raised eyebrows. His little brother only did that when he was embarrassed, and he was rarely embarrassed in front of Itachi. "Ano…"

"What's wrong, otouto?" he asked, reaching out a hand and placing it on top of Sasuke's head.

"Uhm…"

"Hn?" Sasuke blushed like a tomato. He mumbled something so completely incoherent that even Itachi's keen ninja hearing did not catch it.

"Nani?"

"Touch me!" Sasuke blurted out. After that, he immediately splashed water on his face, ducking his head under the water. What the hell? How old was he to want these things? Sasuke kept his eyes shut underwater, knowing something was completely wrong with him. Itachi chuckled at his brother's antics. It was natural that he would be shy about these things, he was just a child. He was still learning what was what.

Itachi pulled his little brother towards his chest into a tight, wet embrace that was immediately reciprocated. Itachi lifted Sasuke's chin and looked him in the eyes. "You love me, otouto?" Surprised, Sasuke looked up at Itachi, amazed that the elder would ask such a thing as though he did not know what the answer was.

"Of course I do!" Sasuke nodded, not an ounce of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Good." Sasuke's head spinned and eyes widened as Itachi's lips crashed against his own, caressing and making the most of the essence that was Sasuke. He felt his mouth being slowly pried open, and a larger tongue brush gently against his own. He immediately returned contact, eager to try and out-do his brother. He would show his Itachi that he was worthy to be his brother. Sasuke wrapped his arms around his aniki's neck, his back arching in pleasure as his aniki's larger hand brushed downwards along his spine. Itachi's hand rested on Sasuke's lower back, and he pressed the smaller boy against him, maximizing skin contact. Sasuke gasped as Itachi suddenly stood up, taking him as well. He carried his little brother to the bed, regardless of their wet state.

Sasuke landed lightly with an 'oof' as the air was forced out of him. Itachi crushed him against the bed with his body, lustfully looking into his eyes before pulling the both of them into another passionate kiss. Itachi's hand agilely flitted lower down Sasuke's undulating body. He scratched against Sasuke's hips as he rolled his nipples in his mouth. He slid even lower, biting down against Sasuke's inner thigh. Sasuke moaned at the pleasant mixture of pleasure and pain. He never knew any touch like this. He liked this. He wanted this. From his brother. He moaned again as Itachi tested his hips with his teeth and scratched against his inner thighs, his hands inches from where Sasuke wanted, yearned for them to be. Alarms went off in Sasuke's head. His mind struggled against this. At this age, he should not understand any of this! He definitely should not want-

"Aniki…" he moaned. "Please…"

"What is it, otouto?"

"Onegai… touch me…"

"I can't hear you."

"Touch me, please!" howled Sasuke.

"Much better," smirked Itachi.

A finger traced down Sasuke's cock and he gasped in wonder. He was innocent after all.

Itachi smirked.

_And I am going to break him. And take him._

Itachi grasped Sasuke's cock and started pumping in a slow, even tempo, making him moan, plead, and writhe underneath him. He loved the sounds his little brother was making for him and because of him, and he had no intention of making him stop. Sasuke struggled. He was not seven years old. He was not. And even if he were, his mind should not be able to rationalize that he was not, or to enjoy this. Seven-year-olds do not get hard-ons, do not experience sexual pleasure, do not- Oh!

Itachi abruptly stopped his ministrations, making Sasuke groan in disappointment and pout cutely at Itachi. He was so close. Itachi chuckled and placed a soft kiss on those pouting lips, before slipping two fingers into Sasuke's mouth. Sasuke gave him a look, before starting to suck tentatively on the fingers. Seeing that Itachi made no move to pull away, he continued sucking and moaning deep in his throat as Itachi's spare hand flitted across his aroused nipples. His mind let go of reason. This had to be a dream anyway. Itachi would never want Sasuke like this…

He pulled out his fingers when he was satisfied with their wetness and moved downwards, spreading Sasuke's ass cheeks and pressing against his ass hole. Sasuke let out a strangled gasp.

"Aniki—wh—what…" he stuttered, but his sentence faded off as his brother pushed two fingers into him, scissoring, bending, pumping and stretching the taut flesh and the constricting muscles. Sasuke moaned as Itachi pumped harder and harder, attempting to hit something. Suddenly, a bright white flash sparked across Sasuke's eyelids, and he gave himself fully to Itachi's ministrations, moaning. Itachi gave Sasuke another passionate kiss, before pulling out his fingers.

He pulled his otouto's legs up and positioned his throbbing cock at Sasuke's entrance. Sasuke moaned, relishing the heat emanating from their coiled bodies.

Itachi kissed his brother's small, straight nose. "I'm going to take this slow, so you won't be hurt too much, ok?"

Sasuke nodded and took a deep breath, bracing himself. A hot, searing pain erupted in Sasuke's ass as he felt himself rip a few millimeters to accommodate his brother's length. Blood trickled down his ass, tracing his curves, though, there was a strange, white-hot pleasure uncoiling with the pain. He moaned. Itachi groaned. Sasuke's shut eyes rolled back in pleasure as Itachi began thrusting, slowly. Eventually, the pain, instead of lessening, grew. His eyes opened and he screamed into Orochimaru's mouth, which closed over his, muffling the sound. That foreign tongue made its way deep into Sasuke's mouth. It was too thick for Sasuke to bite down on, he could swear her felt it in his stomach, or at least, far down his throat. He was older, much older now, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Even through Itachi's thrusts on his immature, mental, strange, seven-year-old self that did not exist, he felt his brother care for him. This was simple, cruel, sadistic punishment. Orochimaru laughed as Sasuke cried, withdrawing his tongue to hear the sobbing of the teen even as he moaned with each thrust to his prostate.

"You want your Aniki back?" He asked, tauntingly and Sasuke screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed…

A hand connected with his face sharply, turning his head with the blow. Sakura stared at her hand, but she had not had another clue of what to do. Sasuke awoke with a start from the strike, to see Sakura's worried face looking down at him.

"Ano, Sasuke… But I didn't know what else to do, I-"

"Thank you, Sakura." He said, cutting her off, and confusing the hell out of her. Naruto's loud mouth was the next to be heard.

"What the hell were you dreaming about, teme?" Naruto demanded. Sasuke fought the urge to take out his frustrations on the loudmouth, instead pushing his way past all of them to leave the tent. He powered up the Chidori, and for the first time in his life, managed three of them before exhausting himself. Kakashi sighed and watched as Sasuke tumbled to the ground from pure fatigue. His one visible eye gave Sakura's worried, pretty face a smile before he left to go pick up Sasuke, while Naruto tried to figure out what was wrong with his best friend without leaving the stricken Sakura alone.

Much later, Naruto got up the nerve to ask Sasuke about the nightmare. The only response he received was a blank look, for a long time. Just as Naruto became impatient, however, Sasuke spoke, his voice and tone dead.

"I…" A smirk curved the black-haired boy's lips, cuing Naruto in to the lie, "Dreamt I saw a million of you. And no Naruto, not just Kage bushin." Naruto blinked for a second, and then realizing his friend still could not talk about it, gave his customary yelling response. No one really notices, but if there is one thing that Naruto really knows, or thinks he knows, it is the brooding prodigy of the Uchiha clan.

And he knows when Sasuke just needs to vent.

* * *

Go ahead, _Saphhy-lovely._ Hate on me.  
It just goes to show that you were wrong and I am right.  
You can't understand me.

To those of you whose opinions actually are worth something:

I'm sorry of how rude that must have sounded up there. This chapter is only in existence because my _friend_ who goes by the name of Saphira hates all things like this.  
She said she knew everything about me, but that isn't possible. It's never possible. So this chapter is here to reinforce the difference between her and me. I am a depraved, psychotic bitch obsessed with blood and death and sex and lust, and I don't care who knows. I'm sorry if I've alienated anyone with this chapter, but I just had to do it. and Saphira...  
Please, don't call me lovely again.

~laughs sadistically~ Not unless you want one of your characters to get this treatment...

* * *

Yow, okay. That was completely uncalled for. I'm sorry, Saphira.


	13. All Flowers Need Sunshine

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_The Oracle_  
_Chapter Twelve_  
_All Flowers Need Sunshine

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_

Where am I now? This question is irrelevant. I am somewhere within Kirigakure, in the land of water, so far from my land; the land I love. This place is hazy and it is hard to breathe in the suffocating air. The gray mist engulfs everything and strains my lungs as I look for a place of abandonment and free expression. My swollen red eyes look for a way out. The solitary lands of ice are preferred more than this. Here, the very air filled with confusion and doubt plagues me. My fatigued and burning legs bring me to a river stained with a glistening crimson; its fumes are intoxicating. It can bring me away from this world. As the gray mist fills my lungs again, I can only think of one way to escape, and I submerge myself within the scarlet waters. Not thinking, not breathing, not anything. Only, from beneath the surface, do I find the amethyst sky beautiful and the gray mist enchanting. Only from here, do I see the precious silhouettes of my dear memories and the faint traces of my dreams, hopes, and ambitions. Only from here, can I see something better, something that I would have never been able to see on the surface. Only here, I may find any escape. And as the water slowly fills my lungs, I daren't swim to the surface... for this is the only way I can find comfort.

I close my eyes and allow myself to fall, deep into the lake the flow of the water drags me, I never would have thought the undercurrent was so strong, the water dyed red with crimson blood. Mist is all around up in the air, and I am tired. I am so, so tired of it all. I cannot seem to find comfort in simple things anymore. It takes this, this death of the mind to free me to be soothed. Fish flit around me as precious air travels upwards and away from me, the bubbles golden in the crimson waters, the pain, deep within my heart easing the more my lungs strain. And as I let my eyes drift shut, the water's silence is broken by a sound not unlike that of a small underwater explosion. I do not let them open again, even as strong arms wrap around my waist and haul me to the surface. I do not want to return. I do not want to face the world above. But I do not struggle in these strong capable arms, they would not let go of me. Because even half-alive is alive enough to recognize the strength in these arms belongs to him. Him, but he hates me. And I do not blame him. I am scum of the earth, I am trash, and I am bitch, the very definition of sadistic, twisted, and unnaturally cruel. I am spoiled, I am bratty, and I need everything done my way. And he is not one for doing things to please others. And as we both break the surface and he gives me air with his mouth, I do not try to push away, to free myself, but I do not respond. He shakes me, calls my name, and tries to bring me out of my stupor. He can feel the heart beating. My body has already expelled the water in my lungs, but I refuse speech. My eyes stay closed.

He does not know what to do. My eyes are open; I stare blankly out into space. As he checks for the reaction, pupils contract and dilate as he once again checks all vitals. I refuse to speak even when he demands it of me; I am stubbornly dead inside. Again, again, again, he calls my name, trying to elicit some response but I only let my eyes drift closed. I am of no purpose here. I am a failure as a mother, as a woman. He shakes me again, will not let my eyes close, will not let me rest. The water beckons me again, because outside of it, the amethyst sky looks once more a thin veil of blood over the blue sky, once more the grey mist is filling my lungs with depression, I long for the sun. I smile, looking at the boy- no, I must remember he is a man now, one with every right to say no- who was the one source of sunlight in this dreary, grey land. I close my eyes again. And he does not shake me this time, but I do feel lifted into strong, safe arms that really do not give a damn about me. And as I turn into him, close my eyes and sleep, I can feel- perhaps it is my imagination, but it is all too clear to me- the shudder of repulsion from him as our skin touches. He has every right to just let me drown.

Nights, I lay awake wondering if the only reason he saved me was for the sake of my child, if he knows that I have his, and whether I should keep it secret from him. If Makoto were alive… well, If Makoto Were Alive, I would not have had her son to save me.

I do not speak to him again.

It is the least I can do for him.

Spare him the sound of my voice.

I will not speak in front of him again.

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Guess who for a brownie^^

This chapter may not be finished. I dunno, it just _doesn't feel finished_ to me.  
Is that weird? I wrote this inspired again, by novocaine


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